NERDS’ RAMBLES Nos 262 & 263.

26th Sept. and 17th Oct. 2011.

The First One - The alleged 4 pubs Ramble.

Those Present - Lafayette, Froggy, Sandyballs and Paco (a bit later)

This was Froggy’s idea. “ Let’s do a ramble which takes in four pubs and ends up with lunch - Nothing can possibly go wrong”
Lafayette laughed himself sick at this brave optimism but as ever was keen for new experiences so went along with the scheme.

The NERDS (well, 3 of them - Laf, Frog and SB) all met in Vic’s for breakfast cognacs. Sandyballs had decided that since he could no longer call himself a Catholic he would have no guilt about doing this - the other 2 just didn’t give a shit and wanted a drink. El Paco was remarkable by his loud absence, but by now we were used to his little pecadillos so weren’t overworried. News reached us that Bronco, being as skillful at driving as he was on a horse, had rolled his Land Rover in Glynde and walked unhurt from the flaming wreckage (should have auditioned for Spooks). Apparently he had gone straight round the garage to buy a new Ferrari so that he could mop up the bastards who had dared to walk in front of him the first time.

Anyway The NERDS got the train to Berwick and were just piling into the handily placed Berwick Arms for a post breakfast and pre ramble drink, when another maniac in a car screeched to a halt alongside them. El Paco had apparently overslept (Well, damn my eyes!) but hadn’t wanted to miss all the fun.

The landlord of the pub had apparently been unable to unload many of his free Sailor Jerry CDs on to his regular customers (see last month’s ramble) because the music was so bad so we took a few away with us to use as bookmarks and drinks coasters.

The weather was sort of dull but OK with a bit of drizzle. The NERDS set off for pub No 2. The Cricketers at er… well you know the one, it’s on the other side of that nasty main road where everyone (except Lafayette who is a brilliant sprinter with shit-hot reactions ) gets squashed trying to cross.

Several squashed NERDS later we found ourselves inside said pub where Paco disgraced everyone by asking for a glass of milk. (Nerves shot to hell by trying to cross the road, apparently)
This had to be downed quickly and we were allowed only a brief goggle at the nymphet barmaids `cos we had to be on, on to the next pub.

Along the old coaching route we went fearing to meet Bronco playing at being Dick Turpin in a red Ferrari or else attempting to mow us down under the hooves of his beloved Crunchy.
On, on went the NERDS heading towards pub No. 3, The Rose Cottage where on previous occasions a talking parrot had served the drinks and where Lafayette had made friends with a black pussy (don’t ask).

Unfortunately time seemed to be running out ( too much boozing) and lunch was in danger of being retarded by potential Old Trouts. So an executive decision was made to swerve Rose Cottage and make it The ‘3 Pub’ Ramble instead, and head for The Barley Mow which was still on the right side of that nasty main road.

At just about this time Sandyballs got a text from someone he called ‘The Bitch’ but who was in fact none other than The Bish to say that he had become a grandfather (again). Well, we’d have to drink to that wouldn’t we? Yet another ugly little face appears in the world to possibly join the Flintoff generation of baby NERDS.

So to the Barley Mow we tramped. That is all except Sandyballs who had “mislaid” his very expensive Primark jacket with the Tiffany cufflinks and had wandered off in a fruitless search for these baubles. On returning (fruitlessly) to the pub Sandyballs found Lafayette three parts of the way through a large bag of porky scratchings because he was unable to wait for his dinner to be cooked.

The Barley Mow must have changed hands since the very ordinary Christmas dinner suffered there by the NERDS the year before last. The food was dead good with a lot of variety and El paco ordered a bottle of posh Merlot to celebrate the arrival of Ugly Young Bish into the world. Froggy told us of his guilty secret of watching ‘Internet Ladies without Clothes’ on his computer (Well, there’s a surprise!) we all thought he was going to divulge a passion for killing a lot of Jews in the war . Never mind, Froggo, your secret is safe with the NERDS - it will never get revealed.

Outside the weather had turned nice and sunny and autumny. The NERDS squashed their way over the main road (all except Lafayette, of course) and proceeded through dappled fields back to The Berwick Arms.There, after a few drinks SB took the train back chez lui and the remaining three chased a butterfly round the decking outside to allay Lafayette’s fear of nasty, fluttery things. (It had been that sort of ramble).

Next Ramble, No. 263. - The Posh Village Ramble.

Those Present - Froggy, Sandyballs, Paco (at the beginning , would you believe,) and Lafayette
Sandyballs was going to try a new ramble today instead of re-cycling all the old ones; The NERDS were all terrified of this radical approach to their drinking and feared getting massively disorientated; however things do not always go to plan.

The omens were not very good. Froggy had received intelligence that the pub the NERDS were due to lunch at at Ansty had closed down. Time for a recce in Sandyballs’ car to establish the truth. On arrival at the pub Lafayette crept up to the front window and peered in. Not only was there no beer, no landlord, no food, there was not even a scrap of furniture; the bailiffs had obviously stripped the joint. Time for Plan B.

Not only did our lunch plans seem foiled, but concern had been expressed over the whereabouts of BT who had disappeared to China a couple of months previously and not been heard of since. Was he languishing in a Chinese jail for trying to pass off his wife as an official interpreter? Or had he simply absconded to Libya lured by the thought of the easy money to be made there in the post revolutionary mess? Even as Lafayette penned these fantasies the truth remained obscure.

Any road up, Sandy balls drove us to Cuckfield while Paco and Froggy debated between themselves whose wife had been the worse cook. Were fishcakes badly cooked worse than lentil bake a la Bresilienne? Lafayette wisely remained silent at this point; he knew that Mrs Lafayette sometimes got up late in the night to read his outpourings of genius on the computer, and he didn’t want to get caught out.

Arriving at Cuckfield, a rather pretty Sussex village obviously full of rampant Telegraph readers and no Pikies, SB went off to purchase a disc to enable himself to park (complicated huh?).
Meanwhile the other NERDS found themselves being drawn towards The Talbot in Cuckfield High Street where all the other customers were sitting aroung reading the Telegraph ( This isn’t actually the real reason; they could smell the beer). Anyway this place had a lot to recommend it. For a start it opened at 10.00hrs
(always a good point) and then it sold local beer, had a massive bonsai tree in the outside bit, a friendly barman of the commoner sort, and a menu that looked rather promising (although a bit pricey).

So all tooled up with drink, the NERDS lounged around on the comfy armchairs and attempted to guide Froggy through sponsoring the passport application of one of Paco’s (many) grandchildren. After a few drinks even Paco couldn’t remember which grandchild it was or even what nationality it was supposed to be that week. Was it a proper grandchild or had it come in in the back of a lorry? Oh sod it ; let’s have lunch.

Sandyballs was twitching a bit now and making noises about doing some rambling, but he was overruled because the menu looked good, the waitress was beckoning and we all wanted another drink. Well, wow! What a lunch! Lafayette had the lovely linguini and mushrooms and truffles and drizzled nectar and stuff and went into ecstatic overdrive. All agreed whatever they had had was super duper so we went overboard and had some orgasmic icecream for dessert ( at least, Lafayette did). This was definitely a “NERDS approved” establishment.

By this time Sandyballs had gone from exuding petulance to being downright bad tempered. “We have come here to walk.” he raved. “ Fuck off.” the rest of us said , wondering which brandy to choose. (Paco favoured the Carlos Primero, but I digress). So to maintain a semblance of being a walking group (lol) we reluctantly tore ourselves away from this gastronomic paradise and wandered out into the wilderness of West Sussex.

The weather had got better, and was nice and autumny ; like coppery leaves and mellow bollocks and stuff. We blindly followed Sandyballs’ promptings and went down some path or other (which was actually very pleasant) in the direction of “Ansty Without the Pub” and ended up (surprise, surprise) in the Talbot at Cookfield for double brandies. Sandyballs had had his honour satisfied and his Catholic guilt assuaged and the rest of the NERDS had got back to where they wanted to be.

Froggy declared his eternal ambition to bring Mike Clarke and Matthew together in a civil ceremony with the NERDS dressed in little frocks as bridesmaids ( I may have got this a bit wrong ; the notes by this time were a little unclear there being brandy all over the embark cards. - Laf.) so we called it a day in the Talbot and Sandyballs drove us all back to the Gardeners in Lewes where we resumed our deliberations about er… whatever it was.

It had been a good “ramble” because we had walked a bit, found a new mega fantastic pub and discovered another chocolate box Sussex village that we hadn’t actually been thrown out of. So thanks to Sandyballs for routing and driving; to Froggy for being funny (in a nice way) and to Paco for turning up at the beginning. You’re getting better, you’ll just have to practise more!

There you go, you NERDS; two write ups for the price of one.
Now wasn’t that worth waiting for?


Lafayette.